Archer bolted.
There was another sound of movement and Ryker shot upright. Keeping a hand pressed to my stomach, he glared over the desktop. His finger squeezed, stopping just before the hammer would engage.
“You know you want to.” Fandrin’s words were slurred after Archer’s attack. “Or have all those years of being my puppet made you soft.”
Someone was running down the hall again. Multiple people by the sound and moving fast.
Ryker bared his teeth. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? A quick death?’ The trigger eased under his touch. “You don’t deserve it. Better yet, maybe I should let the cadets’ parents tear you apart. Why not throw the master to his dogs? I’m sure the Ravagers could get creative, even with an old man like you.”
A bubbling noise erupted from deep inside me. It pressed between my clenched teeth, out my nose, asphyxiating me. Panicked, Ryker’s gun clattered back to the ground. Careful to keep pressure on the wound, he turned me on my side just as I heaved. Agonizing pain tore through my stomach, spearing straight through to my spine. I both screamed and vomited. Stars flickered, blinding me. Ryker was shouting something again, but I couldn’t hear him over the roaring in my ears. There was something else, something shining along with the stars in my eyes.
Polished shoes gleamed against the white floor. But that wasn’t what I had seen. A gun shifted in Fandrin’s lap, catching the light again. It wasn’t the weapon that had caught my eye. It was the single bullet rolling between his fingertips. As I retched again, Fandrin took advantage of Ryker’s distraction. Wrinkled but expert hands slid the bullet into the chamber. The gun rose and I clenched Ryker’s hand in warning.
A shot rang out.
Fandrin’s hand went limp and the silver gun clattered to the floor. The barrel was still smoking. Chunky red specks sprayed the white walls. A smattering of gore was cascading down the glass windows.
Ryker had managed to raise his own weapon at my warning, but it wasn’t his bullet that killed The Minister.
Fandrin was dead of his own hand.
Ryker’s voice was husky with adrenaline. “Coward...”
I sputtered again and Ryker lowered his firearm, turning his attention back to me. Tenderly, he rolled me onto my back again. There was a commotion at the door. The cursing announced Archer before I could see her. My hand automatically stretched out for the man who was with her. I would know his footsteps anywhere.
Triven slid to my side, his good hand quickly finding mine as he assessed the damage. There was a makeshift bandage wrapped around his injured hand. It was stained completely red, but he had more color in his cheeks now.
“Doc?” Ryker pleaded with Archer.
Holding her gun limply, she shook her head.
Of course she hadn’t found him. Doc was dead. I saw it with my own eyes. The one man who might have been able to save me was gone.
“Serum?” Hope was fading from Ryker’s words.
“There isn’t time. She’ll be dead before the other triage team gets here.” Triven said.
Archer screamed and kicked Arden’s dead body. Repeatedly.
It was getting harder to keep my eyes open. Everything was cold.
Pulling myself from sleep, I squeezed Triven’s hand, trying to tell him it was okay. I knew what was going to happen and I accepted it.
I wanted him to lean in and kiss me one last time, to hold me and promise I wouldn’t die alone. But a spark lit in his eyes.
His uninjured hand found Arden’s knife, still buried in my abdomen. It hovered over the handle thoughtfully.
“This is Sanctuary grade.”
“And?” Ryker stared at him.
“It could cauterize the wound.” Archer whispered, seeing where Triven was going.
“You’ll fry her!” Ryker protested.
“Not if we calibrate it to a lower setting.” Triven looked to me for approval. I blinked slowly.
Let me go. I wanted to say. But my tongue refused to work. The pain was ebbing again and I wanted so badly to sleep.
There was a tugging around my stomach. People were talking, but the words made no sense. It was like listening to muffled voices in another room. I closed my eyes and was treated to the sweetest face of a little girl with brown hair and round doe eyes. The Mouse of my past, innocent, happy—unscarred by loss. Why wasn’t she here?
My eyes fluttered open, searching for her, for the reason I had risked so much. What would she say if I gave up now?
A female voice came back into focus. “This could kill her.”
There was a pause, a hesitation.
Warm hands pressed over my stomach and I slid mine over them, guiding them to the electric knife. Then with a shaking hand, I signed. The movement was slow, but the symbol was clear. Phoenix. Triven would understand, only he knew the reason behind my chosen name. What it meant—that I was a survivor.
I might die, but at least Triven could tell Mouse that I fought until the very end.
Hands wrapped around the knife, but moved as another set replaced them. The blade shifted as Ryker took hold. “Better she hates me if she lives. Ready?”
I took what might be my last breath and braced myself.
EPILOGUE: REBIRTH
A BREEZE PLAYED in my hair, tossing it gently. My bare toes curled over the edge of rooftop. The streets below were full of people. The city was still slowly being rebuilt, though it would never again be what it was. A fact I was grateful for. The aftermath had not been easy, it still wasn’t.
Citizens continued to withdraw when a Tribesman came too close and opposing Tribes still carried bad blood even if their children played together. Fighting a war side-by-side hadn’t changed that.
But they were here, sharing this new world, and I supposed that was a start. I stood on our roof’s ledge, relishing in the fact that no one could see me. It was a gift from Ryker and Thadd. The privacy shield that had once cloaked Ryker’s roof, now protected ours. There weren’t cameras watching our every movement like before. But since Triven and I had chosen to stay in The Sanctuary, claimed a home for our own, people continued to view me as Fandrin’s granddaughter. I had wanted nothing to do with the new council, with the government Triven was spearheading, but still people were leery of me. That was one of the reasons I loved it up here. It was nice to disappear.
I sighed as a fake cloud drifted overhead. The dome was back up, once again painting happy pictures of a sky that didn’t exist. Nearly a year later and I still wasn’t used to it. The Wall stood again between our two worlds. It no longer acted as a barricade, but a gate. Peaceful people were allowed to come and go as they pleased, but the level security was still high. The Sanctuary’s citizens never left their boundaries, but some Tribe members eagerly crossed over, seeking a new way of life here.
Most Tribes had stayed in Tartarus, claiming the territories of the dwindling Ravagers. The few Ravagers that had escaped the war were being hunted. Tribal justice I suppose.
The rebellion had changed a lot, but world would not transform overnight. Tribes still warred, citizens still sometimes cowered in fear and our worlds were still trying to figure out how to live together.
Teya was one of those who chose to remain in Tartarus. She had refused to relocate her people, but she did sit on the new council. I always wondered how the meetings went when mother and daughter had to sit across from each other. Teya never told Archer the truth about her arm, and neither did I. Triven assured me the two women were civil, but Ryker painted a different picture. I tended to trust his rendition as he was usually the one to calm Archer down these days. The two had become nearly inseparable. They both swore it was only friendship, but they were both lying idiots. They were good for each other and I hoped they would realize it soon.
The strangest and most shocking Tribal relocation was Sedia. After the war, she became the first Taciturn leader to willingly step down and the first to announce her migration to The Sanctuary. Many of her Tribesmen attributed the choi
ce to her insanity, but it was more than that. Though her tattoos were hard to ignore, and the manic glint in her eyes never completely dulled, she had changed. Sedia took to natural food cultivation. While she worked the land, the crazed veneer calmed and I found myself drawn to her. I would volunteer to work with her although the other citizens gave her a wide berth. Slowly, she began to talk about her brothers. The shared stories seemed to heal us both.
I smiled, stepping down from the ledge. “How was the council meeting?”
Triven laughed, “I still can’t manage to sneak up on you.”
My laugh mixed with his. “You drag your right toe when you’re trying to walk quietly.”
“Hmm… guess I will have to work on that.” Triven’s arms wrapped around my waist as he buried his face in my hair. I leaned into him.
“Teya and Archer butted heads about the weapons regulations, again.” He said.
“Tell me something new.”
“Petra is going to head the new schooling programs. Sedia and Teya offered to escort her and a few others into Tartarus to raid the library. Thadd hated the idea, what with the baby on the way. But Petra told him to stuff it and then kissed him a little too enthusiastically, as usual.” His tone was disapproving, but I would tell he was smiling. Triven and Thadd had become close in the past few months. What started as shared grief became friendship.
“They do realize most of the good books have already been stolen, right?” I grinned, thinking of my stash in our room downstairs.
“And who would do such an atrocious thing? Damn those rogue book nerds.” Triven kissed the side of my neck and I batted him away laughing.
“You should know.” I shot back. After all he had stolen plenty of his own.
Triven’s hands wrapped over my stomach as our laughter slowed. They fell over the scar, his thumb unconsciously tracing the raised skin. Fandrin’s last gift to me. It was ironic really. The man who had so desperately wanted to strengthen our bloodline, was the one who snuffed it out. The knife’s shock had saved my life, but ruined any chance of Triven and I having children of our own. I knew it saddened him, but secretly I was relieved. My family had been tainted for generations, almost as if violence was in our genetics. Somehow it seemed right that the line would end with me.
Besides, I had Mouse.
As usual, we were of the same mind. “How was your day? Did you and Mouse go see Inessa?”
I took a heavy breath, thinking of my mother’s best friend. We had found her locked up in one of Fandrin’s cells. The once loving and kind woman was completely catatonic. Mae swore the woman she loved was in there somewhere, but Inessa had become a shell, an empty vessel gone long before we got to her. It was cruel. She was here and yet Fandrin had killed her. I tried to smile, but couldn’t. “Yeah, it was a good day. Mae said she’s started humming to herself. I guess that’s something. Mouse is still there. She wanted to stay and read, so I left her. After all, it’s the most she uses her voice since…”
She killed her brother.
Mouse had developed nightmares that rivaled my own and though I spent most nights calming her down, she barely spoke anymore. Reading to Inessa seemed to help, so I always encouraged it. But it worried me. Mouse had lost so much.
“Give her time.” Triven whispered, but there was a hint of despair in his voice. “We all heal in our own way. We’ll be with her every step and when she’s ready to talk, we’ll listen.”
I turned in his arms and stepped up on the ledge so I was taller. Leaning down, I took his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his. I pulled away just far enough to speak. “You’re a good man Triven Halverson.”
He smiled against my lips. “For you Prea Mason, always.”
I leaned away from him, looking down at the pavement below. It had not been that long ago when I had thought about throwing myself off a rooftop. Triven’s arms surrounded me, pulling me down into his embrace, his lips claiming mine again. It was true, death was easier, but life was worth the pain.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
PHOENIX IS ALL the things I wish I could be, the traits I am not so proud of and a reminder to let others in and love them in return. From the day Prea first graced my pages, she and the other characters of the New World Series have continually taught me that nothing is black and white, not everyone is good or bad, and how surrounding yourself with the right people, can make you a better person. There is a fabulous and bittersweet moment when a series comes to an end. And I would be lying if I said there weren’t both tears of joy and sadness upon typing my final words. For nearly six years, Phoenix has not only been an integral part of my life but of so many others as well.
I must first thank my biggest supporter. The man who has kindly shared his wife with a slew of unruly characters, gone to bed alone while I stayed up all night writing and gave up weekends with his best friend so I could disappear into the dark streets of Tartarus. Auston, this series would have never seen the light of day without you. I can’t give you back the hours it stole me away, but promise to find a balance with my next book. Our adventures will once again be epic, and I will always be happy sneaking in new chapters between shuttling you from mountain peak to mountain peak. You are my rock, my best friend, my hero. I love you.
Mom, where do I begin? My fans need to know how essential you were to the completion of this series. After myself, no one has poured over these pages more, re-read them as extensively or put as much time into this as you. You helped me take Phoenix’s story to the next level, you have grown with us since that first rooftop scene to the final one. There is no one else in the world I would have wanted to go through this incredible journey with, but you. I owe you another adventure in Moab with life changing hikes and wine under the stars. Many children fear becoming their mothers, but I am honored to be so much like you. You’re truly one of my best friends, and even though I am no longer a child, I still look up to you every day. Both you and Dad raised me to be adventurous and to peruse my dreams. Like all humans, you may not be perfect, but you were the best parents a girl could ask for. Thank you – for everything.
Hidden in the depths of these pages are some of the most amazing people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Annette Meyerkord, Dawn Faller, Cerri Norris, Kimberly Karli, Cameron Walker and Amie Bergeson—you ladies rode this rollercoaster with me since the beginning. Not only am I grateful for your insight and support, but to have you in my life. Like Triven and Mouse with Phoenix, you make me a better person. I must also give thanks to Andy Meyerkord, Eric Faller, Sophia Hanson, Dela, Freedom Mathews, Jackie Fix, Juliana Waltz, the amazing OwlCrate and all my other cheerleaders, supporters, and friends.
At the top of that supporters list is the entire Oftomes family. Ben, thank you for reaching out to me nearly two years ago and loving my books as much as I do. I gave her a voice, but you gave us a platform to stand on. You are genuinely one of the most supportive and inspired people I have had the honor of calling not only a friend but a loyal publisher. Kim-G you made my covers come to life, enticing fans before they ever turned a page. You are amazingly talented, thank you! A huge thanks to Deadpan Designs for the beautiful interiors and Xina Hailey for your sharp editor eyes. Also, I must acknowledge all the other authors in the Oftomes family. I am honored, humbled and inspired by all of you.
Last and never least, thank you—my fans. You have made me cry with joy, touched my heart and reminded me why I write. Thank you for loving Phoenix and taking this crazy ride alongside us. You inspire me. Thank you—each and every one of you—for your continued support. You have forever changed my life.
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New World Inferno Page 34